


Serindipidy and Solitude

by Legs (InsanityRule)



Series: A Modicum of Humanity Makes Everything Harder [5]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oswald's makeup, Proposals, Wedding, can't believe I wrote this sugar mine but I loved it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: Ed Nygma is not a naturally spontaneous person, a planner, so of course he springs a proposal on Oswald before he's even done with his morning coffee.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doyle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doyle/gifts).



“What do you want for breakfast?” Oswald asks, still half awake and sucking down his first cup of coffee, nose buried in the newspaper even though he isn’t registering half the words on the page.

“I think I’ll make something we haven’t had in awhile. Crepes, maybe.”

“The orange ones are the best,” Oswald adds, and he turns the page to continue this illusion that he’s fully awake and aware and  _ not  _ fighting sleep while sitting up at the table. “And after that? Do you have any ideas?”

“I’d like to marry you,” Ed says.

Oswald nods. “That sounds lovely.” Then he blinks, and sets the paper down on the table, gaping at Ed, who’s grinning ear to fucking ear. “What did you just say to me?”

“We should get married.” Ed says again, and Oswald boggles at him. “Today, if I was being unclear.”

“Today,” Oswald repeats, and Ed nods. “You want to get married  _ today _ .”

“I do,” Ed says, and he laughs.

Oswald sets down his coffee and quietly folds the paper, then he picks his mug back up and sips at it gingerly. He watches Ed’s face as his cheerful smile begins to fall, and then his eyebrows droop in that kicked puppy sort of way they do, and Ed bites his lip. “Oswald? I had assumed that you would be receptive, but if I’ve overstepped some boundary you have I am very sorry.”

“I just wanted to surprise you back when I said  _ yes _ , Ed,” he says, grinning over his mug, and Ed beams at him. “Now I’m going to assume you’ve made  _ no  _ plans.”

“I haven’t,” he replies, giddy. “We need rings,” he says, more serious. “And a witness.”

“And some money,” Oswald adds, with the intent to bribe a few people, but he supposes there are certain  _ legal  _ costs associated with a marriage. “I think we should have time before lunch, if we want to get something afterwards.”

“I suppose that doesn’t leave time for new suits,” Ed muses, but he shrugs. “I suppose that isn’t a problem if we’re not planning on having any photos.”

Oswald sighs, “I think that’s not something we can really  _ risk _ , in any case. Not outside our home.”

(Home being a lovely apartment on the water, with a view of the river and large picture windows, plus an entire mezzanine level for Ed’s books.)

“Well, I’ll begin breakfast,” Ed tells Oswald, “and following that we’ll go get the rings, and then we’re off to the courthouse.”

“I’ll go find some clothes,” Oswald stands up and stretches, taking a moment to go over to the counter and refill his mug. “And I’ll see if I have a contact or two available to be our witness.”

Oswald makes it to their bedroom and sets down his mug before his eyes water, and he laughs, wiping his eyes and looking to the mirror above their dresser. “Today, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, you are marrying Edward Edwin Nygma. And you are going to look like a horrible  _ mess _ if you put any effort into your makeup.”

-

“I was thinking something with a bit of green,” Ed whispers as they peruse one of the back counters at Gotham Silver and Gold, scanning the display, which Oswald has deemed lackluster for the most part.

“I'm sure you were,” he tells Ed. “And I'm sure you know I'm looking for something with a bit of purple.”

“Of course.”

“Well, since we know each others tastes, why not find each others rings?” Oswald suggests, and Ed smiles fondly. “We don't have time to surprise one another with any sort of engagement rings, so his can substitute.”

“Then we better start at opposite ends of the store,” Ed suggests. “I intend to thoroughly surprise you.”

“Likewise,” Oswald says, and Ed scurries away to the far end of the display, leaving Oswald to stare down at the silver and gold rings, willing the perfect one to jump out at him so he can start peeking over Ed's shoulder. He's terribly excited, and also horribly impatient, not a great combination, but time is ticking away far too fast, and he wants to hurry up and get to the courthouse.

“Excuse me,” he waves one of the clerks over and gestures to the cases, “could you just pull out anything with green? Thank you,” he says, standing back and watching him pull out a few trays, frowning when it appears to do little to narrow down his choices, but he is appreciative of the ability to handle a few of the ribs, getting a feel for the weight and size, and writing off gold bands entirely. Ed looks dashing in silver, and Oswald wants him to look good.

He picks up a tri-banded ring, and initially he writes it off, but upon closer inspection he pauses, and moves to a complementary magnifying station to get a better look. There isn't a stone, but there appears to be a band of onyx next to the band of marbled green inlay, surrounded by silver on both sides. It's a lovely shade of green, not that tacky, overnight green Ed became infamous for, and when Oswald glances over at Ed as he speaks with the other clerk he holds up the ring so it's visually near his face. He smiles, triumphant, and indicates that this is the one he wants.

“It's an inlay of-”

“I don't need your sales pitch, thank you,” he holds the ring in his hand and tries to put it on for size reference. It's too small, but just a hair, and Ed's hands, while longer than Oswald's, are thinner, especially through his knuckles.

“That’s a very nice one, Ozzie,” Ed whispers in his ear, and Oswald covers his hand, turning in a huff.

“That's hardly fair.”

“As if you wouldn't have done the same,” he teases, and Oswald tilts his head side to side, silently relenting that, yes, he was planning on peeking around Ed's shoulder, although he has no plans of admitting it verbally.

“Unless you've also found something I'd say you're just being cruel.”

“Oh, I have,” he smiles and presents a ring to Oswald, holding his hands similar to a small box and opening the top one, and Oswald marvels at the ring in his hand. It also has no stones, and while Oswald is sure his younger self would object the omission he finds himself falling in love with the silver and purple ring. The silver is braided, or perhaps just twisted, he's not sure, but the purple is  _ just  _ the right shade to bring out his eyes, should he ever plan to wear his ring in public.

He gets a bit sad, then, because as lovely as these two rings are they can't honestly expect to wear them in Gotham, not without becoming giant targets against one another, but he smiles, and takes the ring, handing over Ed's and trying his own on.

“It fits,” he smiles, and Ed nods, waving his hand triumphantly while wearing his own. “We'll take them.”

“We can put in an order for your rings right away,” the clerk tells them, and Oswald chuckles. “Is that funny somehow, sir?”

“He means we're taking these,” Ed tells her, and she looks between the two of them. “How much?”

“But those are the store models-”

“And they fit perfectly, how fortunate,” Oswald beams at her. “Would you prefer cash or check?”

“I can't really sell those to you,” she says. She's squirming uncomfortably, and looking across the store at the other clerk, shrugging helplessly.

“Nonsense, everything has a price,” Oswald tells her. “And we are going to buy these. Now, if you could tell me how much we'll get out of your hair.”

-

“So is this your version of not seeing the bride before the wedding?” Zsasz asks him, and Oswald curls in on himself just a bit tighter. “Not complaining or anything but I had some stuff I wanted to do today.”

“What if we start hating each other?” Oswald asks. He's been somehow going through an entire month’s worth of neuroses in the span of a half hour, and somewhere Ed is out there, possibly feeling stood up, probably regretting his spontaneous suggestion this morning. “We can't even be  _ publicly  _ married. He probably  _ forgot  _ all of that, but when he remembers-”

“Boss he  _ loves  _ you,” Zsasz tells the stall door, and Oswald nods to himself. Ed  _ does  _ seem to love him an awful lot. “Who else would bother?”

“I'm sure you meant for that to sound  _ comforting,  _ and not insulting,” Oswald sneers. But still, is Zsasz wrong? Who else in this hell city would go to these lengths just to be privately married to Oswald? “Alright,  _ fine _ , I'm coming out.”

Zsasz is standing by the mirror, twin ring boxes in his hands, and smiling, and Oswald scowls at him before turning to the mirror and looking over his face. “My eyes look tired. Do they look tired? I think they're  _ awful _ .”

He's busy dragging at the skin around his eyes when Zsasz holds up something in his right peripheral. Oswald turns and grabs what he determines to be his eyeliner, and he Huff's, irritated. “What do you expect me to do with this?”

“I was pretty sure you already knew that.”

Oswald shakes his head. “I will  _ not  _ have my makeup running at my own wedding, Zsasz. I refuse.”

“Good thing I found the  _ right one _ then. You have like, twenty of those by the way. Might want to clean out your supply.”

Oswald rolls his eyes and looks at the eyeliner. Standard black, his preferred thickness, and, “you grabbed the waterproof one? I am giving you a  _ raise _ . You're a saint,” he croaks, his eyes start watering, just a little, and Zsasz’s smile becomes a little queasy, but he nods. “Well, I can't imagine it works well when I'm  _ already  _ tearing up,” he laughs, dabbing at his eyes. “Shoo. Go tell him I'm nearly ready.” He waves Zsasz out of the room. “I'll be there in a moment.”

-

He's giddy, elated, the past fifteen minutes went by so  _ fast _ . Oswald remembers almost nothing aside from the actual “I do” part. Admittedly he spent the entire time looking at Ed, eyes watering but never fully crying, but his eyeliner stayed  _ perfect  _ regardless. And they exchanged rings, held by Zsasz until the exact moment they were needed, and signed their license Misters Nygma and Cobblepot. Neither took the others name, neither really feeling quite right in its own, and either option to hyphenate just sounded clumsy on their tongues. Zsasz had “helpfully” offered use of his name, which they “regretfully” declined. The name isn't the important part anyway.

Ed's hair, which he must have styled in one of the other bathrooms, is getting horribly blown about in the wind, but then again so is Oswald's, and really, this has been such a whirlwind day already. What's a little wind on his wedding day?

He clutches their license to his chest as they stand in the cover of the founders statue, smiling to each other, giggling. He feels so damn  _ young  _ doing this, being so spontaneous with such a life changing decision, but as he and Ed pry their eyes away from one another long enough for Zsasz to capture the moment with his phone, hideous statue and all, he acknowledges that it feels much more like “finally, we did it, this for real” and, at least in this moment, he couldn't be happier.


End file.
